


Michael's First Death

by Threatie, Wrespawn



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Multi, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:20:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21649717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Threatie/pseuds/Threatie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrespawn/pseuds/Wrespawn
Summary: A little story about trans man Michael Jones encountering the respawn room for the first time.A respawn!verse fic and a collab with @alastair-made-me-undo-it!Warnings: Although Michael is never in an unsafe situation, he has a lot of internal angst and fear about being outed.  He gets plenty of acceptance and comfort.  This is a story about a trans dude getting a full functional dick and conventional XY body via sci-fi magic.  Voyeurism vibes.  Light sexual contact between Michael/Jack and Michael/Gavin.
Relationships: Gavin Free/Michael Jones, Michael Jones/Jack Pattillo
Comments: 6
Kudos: 134





	Michael's First Death

Michael lingered in front of the sleek metal door, tapping his foot anxiously. There was no knob and no keypad, no way for him to open it. He jolted when it slid open, revealing Jack in the doorway.

“Michael!” Jack responded to his stormy expression with a bright smile. “I’m so glad you changed your mind!”

“I’m here ‘cause Geoff is making me.” Michael shoved his hands in his pockets. “Fucker won’t let me go on a heist until I’m all immortal and shit. So let’s get this over with.”

She stepped back, beckoning him to come inside. “Yep, he called and said you’d be on your way. Come on in, let’s get started.”

Michael followed, glancing suspiciously around the room as the door slid shut behind him. He’d been in here before, the first time Geoff had shown it to him. The big secret of the Fake AH Crew, all his for the taking. Being able to face down blazing guns or a high speed road chase without fear of death sounded incredible, and Michael had been ready to say yes right up until Geoff mentioned needing a DNA sample.

No one in the crew knew about the binders in Michael’s closet. They didn’t know about the voice training he did in private, or why he never bothered to grow a beard. If he gave them his DNA, it meant revealing exactly which chromosomes he did and didn’t have. It didn’t seem worth it, not when he felt so accepted here. Not when he was one of the crew, one of the _guys_. Immortality, as tantalizing as it was, wasn’t worth risking all that.

… But then Geoff wouldn’t let him go on heists. No amount of cursing or shouting or begging would change his mind. Eventually, Michael had crumpled.

Here he was, back in this weird white room.

Jack flopped down in a wheelie chair in front of a screen. “I just need some hair, and we can get started.” 

Michael bit his tongue and almost walked back out. Jack held out her hand, somehow making the gesture look patient and accepting, as though she was prepared to linger there for hours until he was ready. Michael took a deep breath. It was either this, or never really be a part of the crew. When he thought about it that way, there was no choice. Immortality wasn’t worth coming out, but being a part of the crew was.

Maybe… maybe Jack wouldn’t notice. Maybe the machine would do all the work and the crew would be none the wiser. Before he could second-guess himself, Michael combed his fingers roughly through his hair and held out his fist for Jack, a few short ginger hairs trapped between his fingers.

“There, some genuine Mogar hair. Enjoy.”

Jack giggled as she delicately took one strand. “You’ll enjoy it more than I will. Respawning is pretty great!”

She turned back to the screen, and Michael forced himself to look away. It would look suspicious if he was too interested, right? He could hear the machine beeping behind him, hear Jack typing. Fuck, his stomach was churning, cold chills creeping up and down his spine.

If they kicked him out of the crew for this, then… then at least he was finding out now. He couldn’t hide it forever. Michael’s breath was starting to quicken, his shaking fists clenching and unclenching in his pockets. Fuck, what if they were pissed because he lied to them? What if they weren’t okay with people like him? Shit shit shit, hiding it forever might have been a good idea–

“Oh, by the way…”

Jack’s nonchalant voice made him jump. Michael’s gaze snapped back to the screen, his heart pounding. Jack was still typing, watching the data on the screen as she spoke.

“We use your DNA as a template, but it’s possible to make tweaks, if that’s something you’re interested in.”

It took a few swallows before Michael’s dry mouth could find words. “W-what, are you saying I can have a third arm or some shit?”

“Well, a third arm probably wouldn’t go too well, but you could have different junk if you wanted.”

Michael’s heart jumped into his throat. This time, there were no words coming. He could barely breathe.

“When I got myself set up, I knew I wanted my new body to have tits.” Jack was still rambling as she typed. “Narrower shoulders, wider hips, estrogen, you know… but I wanted to keep my dick.” Finally Jack spun around in her wheelie chair, giving Michael the same bright smile. “So you can mix and match! I’ll take care of the details, just let me know what you’d like.”

Words wouldn’t come. Michael’s heart pounded in his ears as he met Jack’s earnest gaze.

She knew. She didn’t mind. She…

A look of concern flashed over Jack’s face. She held up her hands as though to soothe him. “Th-that’s just if you want it, though! If you don’t want anything changed, that’s fine too–”

“I want _everything_ changed,” Michael blurted. His own voice made him flinch, and he pressed a shaking hand over his mouth. “F-fuck, I mean…”

This time, Jack’s smile was sympathetic. “It’s okay, I understand. I’ll take care of it, you don’t have to explain anything.” She hesitated. “…Do you want a hug?”

Michael nodded weakly. “D-don’t you dare tell the crew I asked for one, though.”

Jack stood and pulled him close. Michael shut his eyes and buried his face in her shoulder so she wouldn’t see the wetness behind his glasses. He was squeezing her too tight, too much emotion, but he couldn’t help it.

“Oh, and Michael…” Jack murmured gentle words into his shoulder. “No one is going to mind. The crew will support you. But I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

“I-if you don’t shut up, you’re gonna have to lie to the crew about me not asking for a hug _and_ me not crying.”

“Ha, okay.” Jack’s hand rubbed soothingly over his back. “So… you want everything changed?”

Michael muffled words against her. “I wanna be so manly my blood is beer.”

“You already are, honey.”

“Can I get the full– uh–” Michael snorted a weak laugh. “–package?”

“Of course!” Jack finally pulled back, politely not noticing how his glasses were fogging up. “Let me go crunch the numbers, we’ll have your new body ready soon.”

She slipped back into her chair and continued typing. Michael slipped his glasses off and wiped his hand roughly over his eyes while she wasn’t looking. Now that the choke of a sob was leaving his throat, a deep giddiness was spreading through him. A shaky smile threatened to overtake his entire face as he slid his glasses back on.

… He was really about to get the body he wanted. _Right now._

“So…” Jack was still typing. “Not to put a damper on things, but you know what the catch is to all this, right?”

Michael blinked. “Catch?”

“The room respawns you. To get your new body, you have to die.”

The word sent a chill through him. He shouldn’t have forgotten so easily, not when death was the entire point of the room. This place only worked its magic after someone shot you down. 

“You can take care of it now, if you like.” Jack’s voice seemed too calm for what she was talking about. “I’ve got a gun.”

Michael swallowed. The knowledge that Jack had a gun on her made the whole thing chillingly real, and for a moment, he was tempted to put it off. To wait until it happened naturally, on an outrageously risky heist, rather than agree to die right now on the floor of the respawn room. Michael took a deep breath. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t keep this up for the days, weeks, _months_ maybe that it would take for someone to get the better of him. Not when he knew there was another option.

“Do I…” he hesitated, not meeting Jack’s eye. “Do I have to do it myself?”

“No, honey. Of course not. I’ll do it.” Jack turned away from the screen. Her hand found his and squeezed, warm and comforting. “You won’t feel a thing. I’ll do it however you want.”

“I…what options do I have?”

“You don’t have to see it, not if you don’t want to. You could turn around and close your eyes, and I’d make it quick.”

The thought made his breath quicken, the idea of such deliberate vulnerability. Not seeing it, just holding his breath and waiting– fuck that. 

“No, I- I want to see. S’better than not seeing, anyway.”

Jack reached under her jacket and lifted out a sleek black gun. Michael stared at it, his breath short. That was his own death Jack was holding in her hand, and all he had to do was accept it.

“This is what I’d like to use. One bullet, straight to the skull. Quick and clean.” She set it on the control panel, letting Michael look it over. “Same gun I used on Geoff. And he used on me.”

The thought of the two of them killing each other made Michael smile, just a little. “You say that like it’s a happy memory.”

Warmth spread over Jack’s face. “It is.”

“So…you liked it?”

“Didn’t feel or remember anything to like or dislike. Felt like blinking and waking up after a good, long sleep.”

“…Okay.” Michael took a deep breath. “That…that doesn’t sound too bad. Uh. The gun should be fine.”

“Do you want to die standing?”

The question sent a fresh jolt of adrenaline through him. Fuck, they were… moving right along here. Jack gestured at the floor.

“If you don’t have a preference, it’d be easier if you knelt.”

“E-easy sounds good. Should I–?”

“If you’re ready.” Jack took his hand again, the touch comforting him more than he would admit. “It’s okay if you need to take a minute.”

“No, we can…” Michael took a breath sunk down on his knees before Jack, as though praying. “L-let’s just get it over with.”

Jack brushed her hand gently down his face, tilting it up. “Okay, honey. Don’t worry, it’s less scary after the first time.”

She picked up the gun. Michael couldn’t keep his eyes off it as it lifted, couldn’t calm his racing heart. That gun was going to be the last thing he saw. He tensed as the barrel pressed against his forehead, smooth and cold. Surreal in its finality.

“Are you comfortable?”

Words wouldn’t come. Michael nodded instead, solid metal pressing into him with the movement.

The safety clicked off. He closed his eyes.

“Hey, Michael?” Jack’s voice had a humorous edge to it, a happiness that felt out of place. “You’re gonna be able to pee standing up!”

He laughed, once, unexpected humor taking him by surprise. “Wha–?”

—-

He blinked.

He was lying on a warm, soft surface, surrounded by the gentle hum of the room’s machinery. Everything looked blurry, but Jack– he was pretty sure that was Jack– was smiling down at him.

“Did I…” Michael reached up to touch his forehead, rubbing a hand over the place the barrel had pressed. Fuck, his glasses were gone. “Did I…pass out or something? Y-you can still do it. I won’t move, I promise.”

His voice sounded… different. Deeper.

“I already did, honey.” Jack lifted something towards his face, and Michael blinked as she slid his glasses on. Her hand stroked through his hair. “You did great. We’re all done!”

“…Done?” He pushed himself up onto his elbows, looking down his naked body.

His naked, _male_ body.

“…Holy shit.”

“Man, I remember when I woke up with a little more than padding.” Jack was reminiscing happily. “I didn’t let go of my chest for the rest of the day.”

His chest. Michael sat up, hands flying up to touch his flat, smooth chest.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

“I – I-I can go topless!” The words were out before he could stop them, his voice almost cracking. “I can- can stop obsessing over whether I have a clean binder, and– and if my shirt covers it, and–” His gaze wandered down, soaking in the rest of his body. “… Whoa.”

“Go ahead.” Jack’s voice was soft, knowing. “It’s yours. You can touch.”

He touched.

Not _there_ , not yet, christ he didn’t think he was ready. He was still afraid it wasn’t real. He brushed shaking fingertips over his hips, noticeably narrower now than before. Back up to his flat chest, nothing but lean muscle. It felt good, it felt right, all the correct shapes. His fingers moved down, following the trail of fuzz from his belly button down to…

Down to his…

“G-god damn,” Michael breathed. “Th-that’s my dick. _That’s my dick.”_

“Exciting, isn’t it?” Jack was leaning casually over the edge of the clone pod, and somehow it didn’t feel strange to have her there, seeing his naked body for the first time along with him. “Take your time. There’s a lot to soak in.”

Michael swallowed. He still didn’t feel ready, but he had a dick and he needed to touch it.

The first brush of fingers sent a shiver through him so intense that his hand snapped away. It wasn’t arousal, at least not mostly. The promising prickle of touch, the knowledge that this was really part of him, was almost too much. Emotion clogged in his throat, and Michael bit his tongue to will the feelings away. Fuck, this was his first time touching his dick, he sure as shit wasn’t gonna spend it crying.

Gingerly, he lowered his hand again, a cautious brush down the soft shaft. The view was not dissimilar to his packer, but the feel… warmer, softer. Nerve endings in his penis- _his penis-_ answering nerve endings in his fingers.

He could feel the brush of his own fingers, and it felt… _good_.

Jack’s voice was soft. “Feel nice?”

“Yeah…” Michael wrapped his hand around it, lifting experimentally, and his breath hitched when the touch sent a little throb through him. “Oh yeah.”

“Feel right?”

“Fuck, yes.”

“Oh man, Michael…” Jack’s hands were on his shoulders, rubbing gently. “You’re going to have so much fun!”

His cock was starting to stiffen in his hand. God, the sight of it had his head spinning. Once he’d started touching, it was hard to stop. Each exploratory movement, each press of fingers made it better. The growing firmness under his hand, the growing throb of pleasure, was starting to make his breath heavy.

“Give it a squeeze.” Jack’s voice was soft, seductive in his ear. “Don’t be shy.”

He squeezed, obeying without thinking. Jack’s lips grazed his ear.

“What’s it feel like?”

Full. Powerful. Pleasurable. Like a tool for driving and pushing and _giving_ –

“It feels…right.”

“Mmmh.” Her hands pressed harder against his shoulders, matching the increased intensity of his own motions. “It looks right, too, honey. Fuck, go ahead and stroke it. Take it for a spin.”

His body was on board, hand obeying before she’d even finished speaking, moving in a slow stroke that made him shiver. Fuck, he was hard, and the rightness of the thought sent a pulse of pleasure through him. _He was hard._

“Good.” Jack’s voice was soft, warm. “That looks so good, honey. You’re doing so well…”

“Shit, I-I wanna shove this inside someone,” Michael groaned. “Fuck, it feels good…”

Jack gave his ear a soft nip as she whispered. “…You know who might appreciate that?”

Michael’s hips jerked up into his hand. Fuck, that motion felt so natural, so right.

“W-who?”

“Gavin.”

Michael froze, heat rushing to his face. In spite of the throbbing boner in his hand, he laughed. He kept laughing until he had to press a hand over his eyes. “Ah, fuck… am I that obvious?”

“Maybe it’d be more accurate to say, Gavin is just that oblivious.” Jack sighed and leaned on the clone pod. “You were both so clearly interested, I’d been wondering why the two of you hadn’t gotten together yet… I guess I understand now.”

The memory was a sour pang. Michael’s smile faded. “Yeah, I… I didn’t know how he’d feel about it. Didn’t know how _I’d_ feel about it.”

“Well, how do you feel about it now?”

“How do I…” Michael straightened up, his eyes widening. The full possibilities were starting to sink in. “Shit, I- I need to go fuck Gavin!”

He launched himself out of the pod, new body moving easily under his command. There was a gratifying swing between his legs as he moved.

“You want some clothes, honey?”

“Fuck clothes!” Michael laughed, running through the doorway, unconcerned, for the first time, with covering his body. “I’m a new man! HEY, GAVIN! TAKE OFF YOUR PANTS, YOU SEXY BASTARD!”

—-

Gavin was deep in his work. Lines of code scrolled by on the screen of his laptop, taking up roughly two thirds of his brain power, while the remaining third occupied itself with daydreams.

He hoped Michael wasn’t having too rough a time with the respawn machine. The poor boy had gone pale when Geoff had first shown him around, and that’d been before he was confronted with the part about getting shot right then and there. Gavin could tell Michael wasn’t happy with Geoff’s ultimatum– join the room or no heists– but Michael had taken the room all the same.

Gavin sighed, his focus on the code waning. Worrying about Michael was leading his thoughts down a tempting road; if Michael said yes (and he would say yes, Gavin could see it in his eyes before he left) that meant he’d be waking up in his pod soon. Naked, sleepy, fresh and new. All laid out for Jack to see…

Dammit. Lucky Jack.

“Hey, Gav.”

Gavin almost jumped off the couch as he spun around. Michael was leaning on the back of the couch, and…

“A-a-are you wearing a shirt?” Gavin blurted.

He could clearly see Michael wasn’t.

“Nope.” Michael straightened up and stretched, nothing subtle about the way he was showing off.

Gavin’s eyes wandered shamelessly. “A-are… are you wearing pants?”

The back of the couch was blocking his view but those hips looked awfully bare–

Michael smirked. “Nope.”

“Are you wearing _anything_?”

“Should I be?”

Gavin stood up so quickly he almost dropped his laptop on the floor. “Michael, don’t you _dare_!”


End file.
